Maple Syrup and Unrequited Love: Chapter 4: Meetings
Maple Syrup and Unrequited Love: Chapter 4: Meetings
Many thanks to bandgeek9 for your hard work and editing! I definitely wouldn't have had the courage to post this just yet, if it weren't for you!
[fanfiction.net link]
OoOoO
Next morning rolled around as usual. Gilbert preformed his typical duties - brushing his teeth, followed by a nice, quick shower and hastily combing his messy, silver hair aside with a few swift glides of his hairbrush. Satisfied with his appearance, the young man bounded out of his room.
"Hallo. How's the awesome Gilbird today?" he mumbled towards a small, black cage. Inside, a yellow parakeet chirped happily as a fresh supply of food and water landed in his tray. "Ah, there's a good boy," he smiled lightly, watching the fuzzy bird waft down mouthful after mouthful of seeds. Personal hygiene complete, pet fed; And with that, Gilbert grabbed his keys and quickly scrambled out, heading towards his destination.
Climbing up one flight of stairs was not far of a stretch at all. Briskly, taking the stone steps two at a time, Gilbert was honestly surprised how close in proximity the home had been all along. And in under a minute, he found himself standing face to face with the small apartment door. The German paused for a moment. After a brief, short interlude, he gave the wooden frame three hard knocks. Only moments later, it gently creaked open in a soft swish. Matthew peered out with a look of up heaving joy and relief, violet eyes glistening with a twinkle of satisfaction. "Oh. You're here, Gilbert," the blond began a bit awkwardly, his cheeks tainted with the faintest hints of pink. "Welcome. And please come on in. I was just starting to mix some pancake batter."
"Of course, kiddo. The one and only." Gilbert smirked, giving a slightly exasperated wave of his arm. "What? Were you not expecting me to come?" Subsequently, he glanced down at the other. Matthew seemed happy enough - yet somehow, he couldn't help but picking out the smallest ticks of nervousness behind the younger man's smile.
"Not at all," Matthew assured, simultaneously ushering him in. "Just relax and have a seat, alright? I'll have everything ready in just a moment."
He nodded and quickly followed while Matthew had promptly excused himself to the adjoining kitchen for a quick moment. Not that he was the one to care or anything, but Gilbert couldn't help but notice some tiny details. The room hadn't changed much since the last time he saw it. Still the same, vivid red and blue walls and the ever ridiculous amounts of Captain America posters that seemed to be looming out of every corner, screaming for their fair share of attention.
It didn't suit the kid at all. The whole house seemed to contradict Matthew's generally quiet but thoughtful personality.
"So, your brother's not here this morning?" Gilbert began, trying to spark a bit of a conversation.
"No," came the distant reply. "He's spending the weekend at a friends." He heard a slightly frustrated sigh. "The guy's so popular, I wouldn't be surprised if he knew everyone in this whole entire town."
"Oh, I see." The silver haired man frowned. Just like expected. Though Matt had straightforwardly told him before, he could definitely sense the source of the kid's distaste, now seeping through the air. He was most certainly overshadowed by his brother, much like the contents of the house - Gilbert knew he could relate to that.
And as he sat idly against the couch, it was all starting to come together and make sense. 'So the brat was right. We truly do have something in common.'
Gilbert groaned, slightly bewildered, feeling his curiosity pique. He wondered what else they could possibly share.
Matthew's agile movements vibrantly flooded through the atmosphere as the blond nimbly worked his way around the tight space, carefully flipping each splatter of pale, yellow mixture; his delicate arms almost working in perfect harmony with the soft sizzling sound of the batter.
Upon peeking in, Gilbert hadn't been expecting either, as he found himself staring, unable to divert his eyes from the scene, carefully studying each gesture of the wavy haired boy. Silently he watched, without speaking a word, face piping up with the sheer enjoyment as if watching his most favorite movie.
Matthew on the other hand had been more keen on this unconscious gaze than him. "It's really nothing more than the matter of flipping a few lumps of beaten eggs and batter. There's not much else to it. Would you like to give a try?" the younger male offered. His face quickly fell and quieted upon noticing Gilbert's lack of response. "I'm just saying, I guess. You looked a bit interested at the process. That's all."
"Er, sure. I guess." Gilbert did not realize he had been blatantly staring. Jumping at the invitation, he hoped to cover up the odd predicament. "Fire away, then. What do I have to do here?"
He took the spatula from the other's hand. Matthew had instructed him to watch the round pastry cautiously, turning it side to side every couple minutes, until it was completely golden brown. It seemed simple enough to him. Enthusiastically, he began flipping, the batter as readily as he could. After about three or four turns, the pancake completely ripped in two. Frustrated, Gilbert gave a scowl and raising his arm high in the air, about to vent his annoyance on the ruined dough.
"C-Calm down, please," Matthew bided. His words were stuttered but had still succeeded in stopping Gilbert just in the nick of time.
Gilbert set the spatula down. "You have to be gentle and patient with the batter. Going to hard and quickly will cause it to break. You do it like this. Watch me."
Pouring a fresh batch of mix onto the frying pan, the younger man diligently waited as the batter sizzled. After giving it a good minute, he softly tucked around the edges, lifting the pastry clean off the hot surface and precisely setting it back down.
Gilbert was not pleased. "Pfft. Patient and gentle," He snorted. "What kind of lame ass joke is that?"
"Making pancakes isn't something you should rush or berate. It's the ease and kind nature that conjures a great batch." Matthew removed the flapjack from the stove and placed it down with the rest. It turned out to be perfectly round, golden and fluffy, much like the others in the stack. Gilbert glanced at his soggy, ripped piece laying on the opposite side. Somewhat convinced, he tried again. This time, copying exactly what he had witnessed from the kid. To Gilbert's surprise, it was everything he needed to make a positive improvement with his next couple sets. His new batch of pancakes could rival that from any professional diner. "Patient and gentle," he mumbled quietly to himself. Was that what he was truly lacking? What if he applied that concept to his life? Would he still be stuck in this miserable hell hole?
Soon enough, the two of them had wiped up more than enough pancakes for a good, hearty breakfast. Matthew sat on the adjacent side with a slight grin plastered on his face. "Great job, Gilbert! These look really fantastic! You did wonderfully!"
"Yeah, yeah," he chided, happily dousing his plate full of maple syrup. And boy, Gilbert was hungry. He simply could not wait to sink his teeth into the rich, sweet pastry. "Who knew just a little change could make such a great difference?"
"Ah. I probably wouldn't have guessed so easily myself," Matthew shrugged casually, picking a bit at his food. "By the way, how was your week? Did everything turn out fine?"
"Same old like usual, I suppose. Ate, slept, drank. What more is there to do anyway?" Gilbert cut a piece of the pastry and shoved it in his mouth, enjoying the warm, puffy sweetness. 'Way better than the ones I had at that restaurant,' He concluded. Perhaps the brat had really shown him the secret trick.
"It doesn't look like you had much to do either," He spoke, after chowing down a nice portion of his first pancake.
Matthew paused and rapidly shook his head. "Maybe not. Though sometimes I believe nothing that there's nothing better than a nice, quiet day at home But at least you had company, right? Have you done anything fun or exciting lately? Anyone from school or work to hang out with?"
"I'm 20, kid. Been out of high school for years; No college out there is desperate enough to accept me. Work doesn't look much better either, so there's not many people around town to talk to." Gilbert huffed with an exasperated exhale "What about you? I'm sure you have someone to talk to besides that insolent brother of yours. You have friends, right?"
The blond gave a light grimace. "No. I haven't. Not for a while, at least. But I'm used to it - being alone. It's almost been like that my whole life."
"Alone huh?" He muttered, under his breath, gazing down for a brief moment." I guess we both are, then."
Matthew's ears perked up slightly. "Come again? What was that you were saying?"
"Oh nothing, nothing." Gilbert swiftly waved off. The kid seemed nice enough. He was about to ask why Matthew never tried to go out and socialize, but immediately decided against it. Though Gilbert was sure the boy would have hoards of friends if he did.
"Now that I think about it, maybe something exciting did happen recently," he stated, trying to change the topic of their chat a bit. The odd incident with Roderich and Elizabeta had still plagued his conscience, making his mind unsettled. Gilbert reckoned it was about time he'd share those problems. And at the moment, he was feeling just comfortable enough to touch on some more personal issues in his life. But as much as he was reluctant to admit, Matt might just be the kind of friend he needed right now. Either way, Gilbert was sure. Anyone who fed him tasty food couldn't be the usual backstabbing prick, .
"What might that be?" The younger asked, in a peculiar manner.
Gilbert shifted slightly in his seat, before speaking. "Haven't you had someone you've liked for the longest time, only for them to tell you they've never loved you back?"
"Oh," Matthew hesitated for a moment, looking a bit surprised at the question. "I can't say if I've ever been in that situation. Do continue, though. It sounds like you have quite a story."
"Well, I know this annoying-home wrecking-girlfriend stealing pussy called Roderich and his hot ass of a woman." He proceeded with the tale of his mournful, unrequited love. Matthew listened diligently, tilting his head curiously upward and nodding to himself.
And that to Gilbert was quite shocking, The kid was a great listener, patiently sitting quietly as he absorbed his every word. Never once had he met anyone with the compassion to give him that forbearing attention. Gilbert couldn't even remember the massive amounts of times he'd beg his brother, or even his parents to simply spare him a minute of their time. They had always shoved him away, being too self absorbed with their own issues to care.
Yet, there was Matthew, never once complaining. For once, Gilbert was glad to have followed his better judgment.
His gaze lingered over the boy, carefully watching his reactions. Gilbert had found Matthew to be interesting enough, just as the kid seemed keen to his story. He soon noticed, however, his companion getting increasingly fidgety as time went on. But only after mentioning that punch, which had left his fingers slightly swollen the next day, had Matthew opened his mouth to speak.
"I really hate to interrupt, but it's been bothering me. Honestly speaking Gilbert. As your friend, I really don't think you should be wasting any more time and energy over those two. They're not worth your time. I mean - it's doing no good but giving you trouble."
"What do you mean by that, kid?" he asked, with a slightly ignorant huff.
Matthew pursed his lips and lowered his tone. "I'm just suggesting. But it sounds like all those things that's happened amongst them has caused some major torment for you. I believe it'll be more productive for you to completely forgive and forget them. I would agree with your perception of Roderich. He's been a bit unfairly rude and disheveling. I definitely that's one person you could do without. And this Elizabeta, no offense or anything, but she sounds like she doesn't know what's best for her either. Call it 'gold digging', might you, but seems like to me, she's just after Roderich's money and fame."
Deep down in his conscience, Gilbert knew that everything Matthew had said was absolutely correct. He didn't want to believe it, starting to feel mildly annoyed. Even with just the faintest spark, he was hoping that there was a chance that Elizabeta would love him back.
"Like I was saying," Matthew addressed, focusing his deep amethyst eyes over Gilbert's face. "She really isn't worth your time either. I should warn you to not get caught up in their drama. It's only going to end up horribly on your behalf."
Gilbert did not like what he just heard, as his temper began rising. The kid was trying to help, which he was quite thankful for, but was now finding it to be downright irritating.
"Yeesh. What are you, some kind of psychologist now? What the hell makes you so sure you understand this crap?"
He hadn't held his tongue and realized he had said that out loud. Gilbert immediately regretted it.
Matthew became tense, recoiling back a couple inches, as a look of distraught flashed across his face. Gilbert knew that grim look. The boy was upset and hurt. "I guess I really don't know much then. I'm sorry."
Almost subsequently, Gilbert felt a pang of guilt rise through his stomach. He shook his head. "No. It should be me apologizing. I didn't mean to yell. You were doing an awesome job trying to help and everything. Sometimes, I guess I just have trouble containing my anger."
The younger man smiled. Gilbert felt relived. He had never noticed how pleasant that gesture could be.
No that wasn't it. He had seen many people smile in the past - friends, family, lovers. But somehow that particular smile on Matthew's face felt uniquely kind and genuine. It was definitely a beautiful sight.
"Ah, maybe it was a bit of both then. I probably went a bit far with the criticisms, and I am truly sorry for that." Matthew began, with a solemn nod. "How bout we just finish up these pancakes before they get cold and call it a day?"
The agreement was mutual. Both men dug in, enjoying the rest of the quiet morning with the sweet taste of maple syrup as well as each other's company.
And as Gilbert headed home, he was undoubtedly happy. Unable to get that silly grin off his face, his mood was brighter than the burning hot sun outside.
Perhaps, there was something different about his friendship with Matt. Or perhaps it was not. But only one thing he knew for certain; after all those months in near seclusion, isolation and self hatred, did he finally remember the joy of love and care from a good hearted companion.
Matthew rubbed his hands together, the friction creating rough heat against his palms.
With a soft sigh, he walked briskly into his room. The familiar sights and smells greeted him as he picked up a large, life sized polar bear.
"Kumajiro," he whispered. "I guess everything that's happened to me these past couple days have been nothing but confusing, eh? I don't even know what to think - both for myself and the people around me."
He stared at the bear, waiting, as if expecting it to answer back.
"It's mainly Gilbert on my mind right now. Well, it was the right choice befriending him…right? He seems like a nice guy, might even make a great friend," he quieted his voice before continuing. "I'm so terrified, though. I know I shouldn't judge, but the more I look at him, the more he seems like F-francis…What if I get hurt again? I don't want to get hurt. That past emotional trauma of betrayal was so painful, I can still feel it wrenching at my heart. I don't want to go through that again."
No response. The pale bear stood silently as ever.
The blond shuddered, pulling his arms tightly against his chest. He could almost feel that Frenchman's malicious, slimy fingers against his own.
"But I do like Gilbert and think he's a bit interesting in the oddest ways. Yes, I definitely like him. He's quite a pleasant person once you get past his anger problems," Matthew paused, cupping his hands against his mouth. "I'm just… so afraid for myself… I-I'm afraid of Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's strangely terrifying too. I-I don't know what I should do anymore."
Kumajiro stared back, with it's ever unblinking black, button eyes.
Matthew cringed, the slightest irked. "What do you know anyway," he muttered, bitterly frowning and giving his stuffed animal a cold, hard glare. "You're not even real."
( Previous chapter) (Next Chapter)
Many thanks to bandgeek9 for your hard work and editing! I definitely wouldn't have had the courage to post this just yet, if it weren't for you!
[fanfiction.net link]
OoOoO
Next morning rolled around as usual. Gilbert preformed his typical duties - brushing his teeth, followed by a nice, quick shower and hastily combing his messy, silver hair aside with a few swift glides of his hairbrush. Satisfied with his appearance, the young man bounded out of his room.
"Hallo. How's the awesome Gilbird today?" he mumbled towards a small, black cage. Inside, a yellow parakeet chirped happily as a fresh supply of food and water landed in his tray. "Ah, there's a good boy," he smiled lightly, watching the fuzzy bird waft down mouthful after mouthful of seeds. Personal hygiene complete, pet fed; And with that, Gilbert grabbed his keys and quickly scrambled out, heading towards his destination.
Climbing up one flight of stairs was not far of a stretch at all. Briskly, taking the stone steps two at a time, Gilbert was honestly surprised how close in proximity the home had been all along. And in under a minute, he found himself standing face to face with the small apartment door. The German paused for a moment. After a brief, short interlude, he gave the wooden frame three hard knocks. Only moments later, it gently creaked open in a soft swish. Matthew peered out with a look of up heaving joy and relief, violet eyes glistening with a twinkle of satisfaction. "Oh. You're here, Gilbert," the blond began a bit awkwardly, his cheeks tainted with the faintest hints of pink. "Welcome. And please come on in. I was just starting to mix some pancake batter."
"Of course, kiddo. The one and only." Gilbert smirked, giving a slightly exasperated wave of his arm. "What? Were you not expecting me to come?" Subsequently, he glanced down at the other. Matthew seemed happy enough - yet somehow, he couldn't help but picking out the smallest ticks of nervousness behind the younger man's smile.
"Not at all," Matthew assured, simultaneously ushering him in. "Just relax and have a seat, alright? I'll have everything ready in just a moment."
He nodded and quickly followed while Matthew had promptly excused himself to the adjoining kitchen for a quick moment. Not that he was the one to care or anything, but Gilbert couldn't help but notice some tiny details. The room hadn't changed much since the last time he saw it. Still the same, vivid red and blue walls and the ever ridiculous amounts of Captain America posters that seemed to be looming out of every corner, screaming for their fair share of attention.
It didn't suit the kid at all. The whole house seemed to contradict Matthew's generally quiet but thoughtful personality.
"So, your brother's not here this morning?" Gilbert began, trying to spark a bit of a conversation.
"No," came the distant reply. "He's spending the weekend at a friends." He heard a slightly frustrated sigh. "The guy's so popular, I wouldn't be surprised if he knew everyone in this whole entire town."
"Oh, I see." The silver haired man frowned. Just like expected. Though Matt had straightforwardly told him before, he could definitely sense the source of the kid's distaste, now seeping through the air. He was most certainly overshadowed by his brother, much like the contents of the house - Gilbert knew he could relate to that.
And as he sat idly against the couch, it was all starting to come together and make sense. 'So the brat was right. We truly do have something in common.'
Gilbert groaned, slightly bewildered, feeling his curiosity pique. He wondered what else they could possibly share.
Matthew's agile movements vibrantly flooded through the atmosphere as the blond nimbly worked his way around the tight space, carefully flipping each splatter of pale, yellow mixture; his delicate arms almost working in perfect harmony with the soft sizzling sound of the batter.
Upon peeking in, Gilbert hadn't been expecting either, as he found himself staring, unable to divert his eyes from the scene, carefully studying each gesture of the wavy haired boy. Silently he watched, without speaking a word, face piping up with the sheer enjoyment as if watching his most favorite movie.
Matthew on the other hand had been more keen on this unconscious gaze than him. "It's really nothing more than the matter of flipping a few lumps of beaten eggs and batter. There's not much else to it. Would you like to give a try?" the younger male offered. His face quickly fell and quieted upon noticing Gilbert's lack of response. "I'm just saying, I guess. You looked a bit interested at the process. That's all."
"Er, sure. I guess." Gilbert did not realize he had been blatantly staring. Jumping at the invitation, he hoped to cover up the odd predicament. "Fire away, then. What do I have to do here?"
He took the spatula from the other's hand. Matthew had instructed him to watch the round pastry cautiously, turning it side to side every couple minutes, until it was completely golden brown. It seemed simple enough to him. Enthusiastically, he began flipping, the batter as readily as he could. After about three or four turns, the pancake completely ripped in two. Frustrated, Gilbert gave a scowl and raising his arm high in the air, about to vent his annoyance on the ruined dough.
"C-Calm down, please," Matthew bided. His words were stuttered but had still succeeded in stopping Gilbert just in the nick of time.
Gilbert set the spatula down. "You have to be gentle and patient with the batter. Going to hard and quickly will cause it to break. You do it like this. Watch me."
Pouring a fresh batch of mix onto the frying pan, the younger man diligently waited as the batter sizzled. After giving it a good minute, he softly tucked around the edges, lifting the pastry clean off the hot surface and precisely setting it back down.
Gilbert was not pleased. "Pfft. Patient and gentle," He snorted. "What kind of lame ass joke is that?"
"Making pancakes isn't something you should rush or berate. It's the ease and kind nature that conjures a great batch." Matthew removed the flapjack from the stove and placed it down with the rest. It turned out to be perfectly round, golden and fluffy, much like the others in the stack. Gilbert glanced at his soggy, ripped piece laying on the opposite side. Somewhat convinced, he tried again. This time, copying exactly what he had witnessed from the kid. To Gilbert's surprise, it was everything he needed to make a positive improvement with his next couple sets. His new batch of pancakes could rival that from any professional diner. "Patient and gentle," he mumbled quietly to himself. Was that what he was truly lacking? What if he applied that concept to his life? Would he still be stuck in this miserable hell hole?
Soon enough, the two of them had wiped up more than enough pancakes for a good, hearty breakfast. Matthew sat on the adjacent side with a slight grin plastered on his face. "Great job, Gilbert! These look really fantastic! You did wonderfully!"
"Yeah, yeah," he chided, happily dousing his plate full of maple syrup. And boy, Gilbert was hungry. He simply could not wait to sink his teeth into the rich, sweet pastry. "Who knew just a little change could make such a great difference?"
"Ah. I probably wouldn't have guessed so easily myself," Matthew shrugged casually, picking a bit at his food. "By the way, how was your week? Did everything turn out fine?"
"Same old like usual, I suppose. Ate, slept, drank. What more is there to do anyway?" Gilbert cut a piece of the pastry and shoved it in his mouth, enjoying the warm, puffy sweetness. 'Way better than the ones I had at that restaurant,' He concluded. Perhaps the brat had really shown him the secret trick.
"It doesn't look like you had much to do either," He spoke, after chowing down a nice portion of his first pancake.
Matthew paused and rapidly shook his head. "Maybe not. Though sometimes I believe nothing that there's nothing better than a nice, quiet day at home But at least you had company, right? Have you done anything fun or exciting lately? Anyone from school or work to hang out with?"
"I'm 20, kid. Been out of high school for years; No college out there is desperate enough to accept me. Work doesn't look much better either, so there's not many people around town to talk to." Gilbert huffed with an exasperated exhale "What about you? I'm sure you have someone to talk to besides that insolent brother of yours. You have friends, right?"
The blond gave a light grimace. "No. I haven't. Not for a while, at least. But I'm used to it - being alone. It's almost been like that my whole life."
"Alone huh?" He muttered, under his breath, gazing down for a brief moment." I guess we both are, then."
Matthew's ears perked up slightly. "Come again? What was that you were saying?"
"Oh nothing, nothing." Gilbert swiftly waved off. The kid seemed nice enough. He was about to ask why Matthew never tried to go out and socialize, but immediately decided against it. Though Gilbert was sure the boy would have hoards of friends if he did.
"Now that I think about it, maybe something exciting did happen recently," he stated, trying to change the topic of their chat a bit. The odd incident with Roderich and Elizabeta had still plagued his conscience, making his mind unsettled. Gilbert reckoned it was about time he'd share those problems. And at the moment, he was feeling just comfortable enough to touch on some more personal issues in his life. But as much as he was reluctant to admit, Matt might just be the kind of friend he needed right now. Either way, Gilbert was sure. Anyone who fed him tasty food couldn't be the usual backstabbing prick, .
"What might that be?" The younger asked, in a peculiar manner.
Gilbert shifted slightly in his seat, before speaking. "Haven't you had someone you've liked for the longest time, only for them to tell you they've never loved you back?"
"Oh," Matthew hesitated for a moment, looking a bit surprised at the question. "I can't say if I've ever been in that situation. Do continue, though. It sounds like you have quite a story."
"Well, I know this annoying-home wrecking-girlfriend stealing pussy called Roderich and his hot ass of a woman." He proceeded with the tale of his mournful, unrequited love. Matthew listened diligently, tilting his head curiously upward and nodding to himself.
And that to Gilbert was quite shocking, The kid was a great listener, patiently sitting quietly as he absorbed his every word. Never once had he met anyone with the compassion to give him that forbearing attention. Gilbert couldn't even remember the massive amounts of times he'd beg his brother, or even his parents to simply spare him a minute of their time. They had always shoved him away, being too self absorbed with their own issues to care.
Yet, there was Matthew, never once complaining. For once, Gilbert was glad to have followed his better judgment.
His gaze lingered over the boy, carefully watching his reactions. Gilbert had found Matthew to be interesting enough, just as the kid seemed keen to his story. He soon noticed, however, his companion getting increasingly fidgety as time went on. But only after mentioning that punch, which had left his fingers slightly swollen the next day, had Matthew opened his mouth to speak.
"I really hate to interrupt, but it's been bothering me. Honestly speaking Gilbert. As your friend, I really don't think you should be wasting any more time and energy over those two. They're not worth your time. I mean - it's doing no good but giving you trouble."
"What do you mean by that, kid?" he asked, with a slightly ignorant huff.
Matthew pursed his lips and lowered his tone. "I'm just suggesting. But it sounds like all those things that's happened amongst them has caused some major torment for you. I believe it'll be more productive for you to completely forgive and forget them. I would agree with your perception of Roderich. He's been a bit unfairly rude and disheveling. I definitely that's one person you could do without. And this Elizabeta, no offense or anything, but she sounds like she doesn't know what's best for her either. Call it 'gold digging', might you, but seems like to me, she's just after Roderich's money and fame."
Deep down in his conscience, Gilbert knew that everything Matthew had said was absolutely correct. He didn't want to believe it, starting to feel mildly annoyed. Even with just the faintest spark, he was hoping that there was a chance that Elizabeta would love him back.
"Like I was saying," Matthew addressed, focusing his deep amethyst eyes over Gilbert's face. "She really isn't worth your time either. I should warn you to not get caught up in their drama. It's only going to end up horribly on your behalf."
Gilbert did not like what he just heard, as his temper began rising. The kid was trying to help, which he was quite thankful for, but was now finding it to be downright irritating.
"Yeesh. What are you, some kind of psychologist now? What the hell makes you so sure you understand this crap?"
He hadn't held his tongue and realized he had said that out loud. Gilbert immediately regretted it.
Matthew became tense, recoiling back a couple inches, as a look of distraught flashed across his face. Gilbert knew that grim look. The boy was upset and hurt. "I guess I really don't know much then. I'm sorry."
Almost subsequently, Gilbert felt a pang of guilt rise through his stomach. He shook his head. "No. It should be me apologizing. I didn't mean to yell. You were doing an awesome job trying to help and everything. Sometimes, I guess I just have trouble containing my anger."
The younger man smiled. Gilbert felt relived. He had never noticed how pleasant that gesture could be.
No that wasn't it. He had seen many people smile in the past - friends, family, lovers. But somehow that particular smile on Matthew's face felt uniquely kind and genuine. It was definitely a beautiful sight.
"Ah, maybe it was a bit of both then. I probably went a bit far with the criticisms, and I am truly sorry for that." Matthew began, with a solemn nod. "How bout we just finish up these pancakes before they get cold and call it a day?"
The agreement was mutual. Both men dug in, enjoying the rest of the quiet morning with the sweet taste of maple syrup as well as each other's company.
And as Gilbert headed home, he was undoubtedly happy. Unable to get that silly grin off his face, his mood was brighter than the burning hot sun outside.
Perhaps, there was something different about his friendship with Matt. Or perhaps it was not. But only one thing he knew for certain; after all those months in near seclusion, isolation and self hatred, did he finally remember the joy of love and care from a good hearted companion.
Matthew rubbed his hands together, the friction creating rough heat against his palms.
With a soft sigh, he walked briskly into his room. The familiar sights and smells greeted him as he picked up a large, life sized polar bear.
"Kumajiro," he whispered. "I guess everything that's happened to me these past couple days have been nothing but confusing, eh? I don't even know what to think - both for myself and the people around me."
He stared at the bear, waiting, as if expecting it to answer back.
"It's mainly Gilbert on my mind right now. Well, it was the right choice befriending him…right? He seems like a nice guy, might even make a great friend," he quieted his voice before continuing. "I'm so terrified, though. I know I shouldn't judge, but the more I look at him, the more he seems like F-francis…What if I get hurt again? I don't want to get hurt. That past emotional trauma of betrayal was so painful, I can still feel it wrenching at my heart. I don't want to go through that again."
No response. The pale bear stood silently as ever.
The blond shuddered, pulling his arms tightly against his chest. He could almost feel that Frenchman's malicious, slimy fingers against his own.
"But I do like Gilbert and think he's a bit interesting in the oddest ways. Yes, I definitely like him. He's quite a pleasant person once you get past his anger problems," Matthew paused, cupping his hands against his mouth. "I'm just… so afraid for myself… I-I'm afraid of Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's strangely terrifying too. I-I don't know what I should do anymore."
Kumajiro stared back, with it's ever unblinking black, button eyes.
Matthew cringed, the slightest irked. "What do you know anyway," he muttered, bitterly frowning and giving his stuffed animal a cold, hard glare. "You're not even real."
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